


I'll Take You Any Day, Don't Take Me Out

by sxldato



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Benny Lafitte Takes Care of Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester Loves Benny Lafitte, Dean is Bad at Feelings, Emotional Constipation, Hangover, M/M, Morning After, One Night Stands, Resolved Sexual Tension, if u call making him breakfast taking care of him-- which i do, yea he does hell yeah
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-07
Updated: 2018-06-07
Packaged: 2019-05-19 04:31:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14866655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sxldato/pseuds/sxldato
Summary: One-night stands usually aren’t this emotionally taxing. But Dean doesn't usually have one-night stands with his friends. Usually doesn't want it to be more than that, either.Or: Benny and Dean sleep together. There's aftermath.





	I'll Take You Any Day, Don't Take Me Out

**Author's Note:**

> i posted this on my tumblr (sahwen) a couple weeks ago and i figured i should post it here too  
> title is from Sweet FA by peach pit  
> anyways i love my big vampire boy please talk to me about benny lafitte any time

Dean wakes up in an unfamiliar bed. Not unusual. Last night is a fog, and it only begins to clear when he looks around the room and realizes where he is.

The other side of the bed is empty. Dean hates himself for thinking it, but he could just sneak out of here and maybe they would never have to talk about it.

Dean has one leg in his jeans when he hears signs of life coming from the kitchen, and dread settles hard in his chest. He finishes getting dressed, but gives himself a moment to collect his thoughts. He’s got one hell of a hangover.

Dean pads quietly into the kitchen, squinting at the sunlight coming in through the windows.

“Mornin.’“ Benny waves a spatula towards the table. “Have a seat.”

Dean doesn’t want to. Dean wants to leave. But he sits down anyways because he can’t ditch Benny, he  _won’t_. It would be a dick move and Benny deserves better than that.

“You wouldn’t have Advil by any chance, huh?” He asks, scrubbing a hand over his face in an attempt to wake himself up.

“Got somethin’ better.” Benny sets a plate in front of Dean. It looks like carnage but it smells amazing. “Corn beef hash. Picked up a taste for it sailin’ around Britain before it came to the States.”

“You eat?”

“If I want to.” Benny settles down opposite him with a mug full of– yeah, Dean thinks, that’s  _definitely_ not coffee. “It’s an old hangover remedy.”

And okay, it’s seriously one of the greatest things Dean has ever tasted in his life, and he’s pretty touched that Benny did this. It makes the entire situation that much more complicated.

Benny’s a good guy, one of the best. Dean can’t believe what he’s about to do to him.

“Benny, I, uh.” Dean studies the vibrant yellow egg yolks running across his plate. He’d pricked them with his fork so it wouldn’t look so much like a pair of eyes. (He still thinks about Azazel sometimes.)

“What we did…” he starts. His palms are clammy and he’s so goddamn ashamed of himself– and he doesn’t know if it’s because of what they had done, or because he’s not man enough to face it the morning after. “It– it was a mistake.”

Benny exhales and Dean swears he can hear the disappointment.

“I didn’t do somethin’ you didn’t want, did I?”

“No, God, of course not, that’s– that’s not what I meant.” Dean’s cheeks are hot and his head throbs in time with his heartbeat.“You didn’t do anything wrong, and I… I  _wanted_ it, I just.”

He must look as distraught as he feels, because Benny nudges the glass of water towards him with a kind of gentle concern that almost breaks him. He takes the glass and drinks it all in one go.

“We can’t do this again,” Dean manages finally. He clenches his teeth, biting down hard on any emotion threatening to leak through.

Benny sits back in his chair, tracing the rim of his mug with his finger. Dean knows that act, that face of trying to seem unbothered when you’re shattering on the inside.

“Can’t do it again ‘cause you don’t want to?” Benny asks. “Or ‘cause you feel like you  _shouldn’t_ want to?”

Dean bristles. He feels patronized and it pisses him off. “’Cause I don’t want to, okay?”

“That’s one hell of a lie you got there, Dean.”

“It doesn’t matter if I’m lying or not. It’s not gonna happen again. And I’d appreciate it if we didn’t talk about this again, either.”

The last thing he’d wanted was to get angry, but here they are. He needs to leave before he makes things worse.

“I think I’m gonna take off,” he mumbles, avoiding Benny’s gaze as he stands from his seat. He can’t remember the last time he felt so humiliated.

“Dean, c’mon.” Benny stands as well, blocking Dean’s path to the door. “Don’t be like that.”

“Get outta my way,” Dean growls.

Benny is stubborn– stubborn enough to rival a Winchester. That’s part of why they made such a good team.

“If it’s botherin’ you this much, we should talk about it–”

“I don’t  _want_ –” Dean grabs Benny by the collar and pushes him up against the wall– “to talk about it.”

“Seems to me like you never wanna talk about anythin,’” Benny replies, barely fazed by Dean’s outburst. “Not about what matters, anyways.”

Deans lip curls and man, he’s seeing red, he’s so fucking angry. He never lets himself stay embarrassed for too long; it always contorts into anger sooner or later. It’s an ugly, explosive defense mechanism, and Dean doesn’t know how to stop it.

“Shame ain’t a good color on you, sugar,” Benny says. “Now, are you gonna take a swing or not?”

Dean’s grip around Benny’s shirt tightens and tightens and tightens, but then he lets go. It wouldn’t do any good, hurting Benny– it would just make him feel worse. He’s overwhelmed and there’s not enough air in the room.

“What’s got you so upset, huh?” Benny grazes his thumb over Dean’s cheek, too gentle, and Dean pulls away from the touch and steps back. Dean can’t take any tenderness right now, not when he’s so riled up. It’ll break him.

“I don’t–” Dean shakes his head. “I don’t know.”

Benny reaches for him and he shoves him off, but without any aggression. The burst of anger is fading quickly and coming down from the adrenaline makes him dizzy.

“You do know.” Benny sits back down at the kitchen table. “You can tell me. It’d be nice if I was in the loop.”

It’s true. They’d fucked; Dean should probably be more open with him, instead of… whatever aloof bullshit he’s pulling right now.

“I don’t wanna ruin it,” Dean admits. “Alright? I don’t wanna screw it up.”

Benny actually  _laughs_.

“Thanks for that,” Dean grumbles, flushing deep red. “I’ll see you later, Benny.” 

“Wait, wait.” Benny grabs his hand as he turns for the door. “I ain’t laughin’ at you, I’m sorry.”

Dean lets himself be reeled back in, refusing to look at Benny. His chest aches something fierce– if he’s lucky, he’s having a heart attack– and part of him wants to sit down and get his bearings. Another part wants to make a beeline for the exit. One-night stands usually aren’t this emotionally taxing. But Dean doesn't usually have one-night stands with his friends. Usually doesn't want it to be more than that, either.

“I’ve seen you sever heads like it’s your birthright.” Benny’s hands fall to Dean’s hips and Dean thinks he might pass out. “What the hell do you think is gonna break us apart?”

“Something always does,” Dean says. 

Benny brings Dean closer, strong calloused hands splayed against the backs of his thighs, encouraging Dean to straddle him on the chair.

“So, what? You gonna live in fear your whole life? Doesn’t seem very Dean Winchester to me.” Benny gives him a smile. “Wouldn’t kill you to take a risk.”

“You don’t know that.”

Benny kisses him and it’s soft, and more details from the night before trickle into the forefront of Dean’s mind; Benny’s scruff tickling his skin, the heavy breathing, the _oh_ mygod- _oh_ mygod- _oh_ mygod thrum of his heart. 

Dean takes Benny’s face in his hands and realizes that yeah, he doesn’t want to give this up– whatever it is. 

“Okay,” Dean gasps between kisses, “okay.”


End file.
